Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“You fucking bitch.” He glances down at his shirt, and that’s all the opening I need. I twist and yank the door handle. In one swift motion, I launch myself out of the car. My body slams into the pavement with a brutal thud, pain exploding up my side. I scramble to my feet, my head spinning, and stumble forward. My vision is still blurry, and the blaring horns only add to my confusion.
“Georgia!”
I hear Vince yell my name, and I bolt across the street. A horn blares and I halt inches from getting hit. I make the mistake and look over my shoulder when Vince reaches out, grabs my shirt, and hauls me toward him. “Wrong move.”
I thrash in his grip, desperate to break free. “Let me go!” I scream, clawing at his arms. “Let me fucking go!” With a spike of adrenaline, I throw my head back, slamming it into his chin.
“Fuck!” He loosens his grip, stumbling backward, and a car slams into him with a sickening crash. The impact rings in my ears, and his body is flung violently across the intersection, landing in a heap. I stand there in shock, trying to process what just happened. The chaos around me intensifies. So much shouting and tires screeching. I make out silhouettes. People. The woman from the car screams as she maneuvers through the traffic to get to Vince and drops to her knees beside him.
The world spins. Lights blind me. I cup my ears at the sudden stabbing inside my head. I’m going to be sick.
“Miss!”
“Miss!”
I spin around, trying to make sense of the voices, but everything is blurry.
“Miss, watch out!”
Like a freight train tearing through my body, something slams into me, and everything goes black.
Chapter twenty-nine
Jackson
“Get the fuck out of my way!” I slam my fist on my horn.
“Getting into an accident isn’t going to get you to her any faster.”
I ignore Craig’s comment and weave between two cars, almost hitting a pedestrian. “Where is she?”
“About three miles ahead of you. She’s stopped. They’ve been at the light on Jefferson for some time now.”
“Why?”
“Not sure. Traffic? Construction? Accident?”
“Can you get a feed from the red-light camera?”
Craig sighs. “That’s gonna cost ya. Hacking into them is frowned upon, and I’ve exceeded my limit today—”
“I’ll fucking pay whatever you want.”
“It’s your money. Hold tight…” Each second feels like another brick pressing down on my chest. While I wait, I call Georgia on my car phone. It goes to voicemail. “Shit.”
“What?” My stomach drops. “Fucking what!”
“The scanner is picking up an accident ahead. Two casualties. Male and female. Car accident. Jackson, I’m sorry. I think it’s them. The description—”
No, no, no… “What kind of accident?”
“Doesn’t sound good. One is dead on the scene. The other is being airlifted to Chicago General.”
A cold sweat coats my skin as I struggle to take in a breath. “Who? Does it say who?” It can’t be her. This isn’t them. Bile rises in my throat. “Craig.” I struggle to get the words out. “Check her location.”
There’s a pause before he replies. “I’m sorry, man. It hasn’t moved.”
No, it can’t be her. It can’t fucking be her! Her smile flashes in my mind. Her laughter echoes in my ears. The way she’s lit up my life with her kindness, humor, intelligence, love. “No…” I whisper. “It can’t be her.” My voice breaks. “NO!” I crush my fists against the steering wheel.
“Jackson, you’re about half a mile away. Traffic is at a dead stop. You have a better chance—”
Throwing my car into park, I jump out before he can finish his sentence, my feet hitting the pavement as I sprint forward, my heart thundering in my chest. I run toward the unknown, my mind spiraling to a dark place. Sweat beads across my forehead at the haunting thoughts of her lying lifeless under a white cloth. Her beautiful heart no longer beating for me. Her eyes, whether burning with desire or shining with happiness, strike fear into me: what if I never feel the softness of her skin beneath me again? I clutch my chest as pain threatens to bring me to my knees. Pushing forward, I race past cars and people standing outside their vehicles, all watching the red and blue lights up ahead.
I arrive at the scene as an officer stretches yellow tape across the area, blocking it off. Two paramedics rush through, pushing a gurney toward an ambulance. My legs feel weak, and I almost lose my footing, but I keep going.
“Hey, you can’t be here. This is a—”
“That’s my—I need to see who that is. I need to see…” My voice cracks, and I choke on my question.
“Sir, I’m sorry, but this is a crime scene.”
My eyes lock on the gurney, the covered body, and my stomach roils. Crime scene. Fuck, Georgia, what did they do to you? “I need to know if that’s the male or female?”